Empty Memories
by pronounced.ALEEZAH
Summary: After a land mine explosion, Max wakes up in a stranger's house with amnesia. She is forced to go to school. After a hectic morning, she finally meets someone from her old life. But will she remember him? FAX. Oneshot. Rated T for language. R/R


**A/N- Hello! It's MyDarlingAngelOfHell here again wishing you guys a happy Friday. XD This was originally supposed to be a twoshot, but I kinda like the mysterious ending. I'm so sorry if you guys wanted a second chapter. And yes, this was supposed to be up last week, but was delayed due to school purposes. This is post-MAX. Enjoy!**  
><strong> P.S. My penname used to be BlackAngelOfDarkness. Remember me from What's Love? No? Well, whatever.<strong>

I did not remember anything. Anything at all. Don't get what I'm saying? Here, let me explain. It all started two days ago...

* * *

><p>I woke up in a cold, unfamiliar room. The curtains were drawn, and there was a table next to me holding alcohol swabs, ice packs, and that kind of stuff. I tried to get up, but my entire body was sore as hell. When I looked under my shirt, my entire stomach was bandaged and tinged red at parts.<p>

It wasn't till a minute later I saw a lady in a pantsuit standing next to me. She had blond hair and looked like she was in her forties. The woman gazed at me worriedly. "Maximum?" she asked. "Are you feeling alright?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm wounded, bleeding, and it smells like I haven't showered in a while. Of course not!" Then I frowned. "But, wait. Why are you calling me Maximum? And who are you?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh, my," she whispered. "It's worse than I thought." This is the part where I hoped someone would jump out of a cake yelling "Surprise! Happy Birthday!"

But I didn't know when my birthday was. Or my name, for a matter of fact. Where I came from, who my parents are.

I couldn't remember anything.

Shit.

* * *

><p>Do you get it now? I hope so, because I barely did. Apparently, my name is Maximum Ride. I'm 15 years old. I have 2% avian DNA, so I have wings. Like a bird. Yeah, I was surprised, too. So, anyway, there are five other kids like me. A week ago, we were in an area looking for a new threat reportedly there. What we didn't know was that the area was a land mine. One of us took a wrong step, and the whole place exploded.<p>

Elizabeth, that blond lady from two days ago, heard that we were there, and came to warn us. Unfortunately, she came a few minutes two late. She only found me, took me in, and healed my injuries.

At least, this is everything she told me. I don't remember anything. At all. I guess I lost my memory, so she explained the basics to me. It's like when you meet a new person. You find out their name, where they're from, and how they look like. That's how it is with me; I feel like a stranger to myself.

But, Elizabeth had his crazy idea that I should _go to school_. I don't know about you, but that's really fucked up. IMHO. I mean, really? I literally saved the world; I shouldn't waste my time sitting in a desk working on math. I know how to multiply and divide _perfectly_.

...OK, so maybe I don't but seriously, who cares?

Ugh. I have flipping wings for a reason. You know what? Forget it. I'm ditching this mutton stand. I dropped my bag, unleashed my wings, and flew far, far, far away from this godforsaken place.

Just kidding.

Hah. You thought I was for real, didn't you? I wish. If I had the smallest shred of luck, I wouldn't even be here.

My thoughts were interrupted by the screeching of bus tires. I groaned as I walked into the bus. Here comes my doom.

I stepped out of the student office with my schedule and into the crowded hallways of Greenville High School. I looked around and saw jocks flirting with cheerleaders, nerds cramming for future tests and exams, and so many teenagers just talking about fricking nonsense, like the football game, or prom. Why do these things even matter?

Out of nowhere, a strange guy wearing a kilt and bagpipes hands me a flyer. Then, he walked away, probably to pass out more. I looked down at the bright red paper. In large blue letters, it said, "Got nothing to do? Always bored at home? Well, here's your chance to join Greenville's sewing-" At this point, a word that looked suspiciously like "cult" was crossed out and replaced with "club." There, it continued," If interested, contact (756) STR-ANGE. Open before school everyday at the crack of dawn. Bring refreshments!"

Um, alright. I know I have wings, but that was just downright creepy. I mean, WTH?

The bell rang, and kids everywhere scattered to get to first period. On my schedule, it said I had first period English Literature with Mr. Watson in room 32. I walked around, searching for room 32, but somehow ended up at the cafeteria. But then after minutes of more searching, I stood in front of the doorway for the room. I took a deep breath and scratched the back of my head. _Well, here goes nothing._Reluctantly, I opened the door to see a bunch of yawning students being lectured by an old, wrinkly man with glasses about the dangers of punctuation*.

"Erm, hello?" I asked unsurely. The man, who I guessed to be Mr. Watson, didn't seem to hear and continued to lecture. "Hello?" I repeated. Guess what he did?

He continued to talk. Rolling my eyes, I walked up to him and waved my hand in front of his face. "Excuse me?" I practically yelled.

Mr. Watson jumped back and finally seemed to notice me. He glared, and snapped," Yes? I'm not deaf, you know!'

I sighed in relief, and continued," Well, I'm a new-"

"Don't you know it's rude to interrupt people while they're talking?" he barked.

"Sorry, but-" I tried to apologize.

"I haven't seen you around here before. Are you new here?" the teacher demanded.

"Yeah, but-"

He once again interrupted, "Well, why didn't you say so before?"

"Sir, that's what I've been-" I almost finished.

"The office told me to expect you. What's your name?"

"It's Ma-"

"Oh, yes! I remember. Class, this is Mandy Reed. Mandy, you may go take a seat in the back."

I inwardly groaned and gave up on trying to finish my sentences. I walked to the back, took a seat, and slumped down. Kids looked at me, whispering about the new student. "Scram!" I hissed. They widened their eyes and turned around. Much better.

For the rest of the period, I laid my head on my desk and tried to sleep. Which, of course, earned me a detention. After what seemed like a million years, the bell finally rang. I slung my backpack across my shoulders and strode lazily out the door. As I walked through the hallways, I stared out of the windows and saw geese taking flight. Damn, what I would give to fly like them. Seriously, I haven't exactly had any practice since I came here.

This time I had no trouble whatsoever finding the chemistry classroom. I stepped over the threshold and saw chemicals, Bunsen Burners, and vials.

That's when my head started to feel like it was on fire.

_ "Hey, Max! Wanna see what happens when Gazzy and I mix cobalt, bubble gum, and curry powder together?" a strawberry blonde boy asked. He had pale blue eyes that fixed on no particular point._

_ I chuckled. "Sorry, but no thanks. I don't want to be blown into bits." His face fell slightly and I immediately started to feel guilty. "Actually, sure. Let's go to the bottom of the canyon and see what happens."_

_ He laughed in delight, and we headed out the door._

I cried out in pain. My head was hurting to no end. I took deep breaths and counted to three. After a few minutes, the headache began to cease as I sat down in a desk at the front row.

I looked at the teacher's desk, where Mrs. Johnson was sitting. At least, that's what her name tag said. She had brown hair pinned up to a bun. Her face wore no smile, but her blue eyes were bright. I decided I liked her immediately; she had that certain _savoir-faire _about her.

"Class," she announced after the bell rang. "Today, I believe we have a new student. Her name is-" Mrs. Johnson cleared her throat, "-Maximum Ride." Well, someone finally remembered my name.

Excited whispers filled the class. The whole "Could this really be the Maximum Ride that saved the world?" routine had began. I mentally groaned. I didn't even remember how I stopped genocide, so how could I be anymore sure than these guys?

The teacher tapped her desk with a ruler. "Quiet, everyone! Now, Maximum-er, may I call you Max?"

I smiled a little. Now I definitely liked this lady. "Sure," I permitted.

"Yes, well, Max. would you like to come up and say anything about yourself?" she asked.

I blinked. "No."

The teacher raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "If that is what you wish, the so be it." As soon as she started taking attendance, I looked around at all the faces. Some kids whispered about me. Others payed attention to roll call. I noticed one boy sitting at the back, in particular. He had olive skin, shaggy black hair, and black clothing. Even his eyes looked black. The boy was staring at me intently with slightly widened eyes. He mouthed one word.

_ Max._

My head started hurting again. I turned back around in surprise and clenched my teeth. Must. Ignore. Pain.

But I couldn't. the headache remained for the entire period. After the bell rang and I got out of the classroom, it lessened slightly, but remained there.

Why the fuck was I having these migraines? It was just like, BAM! And then my head would hurt. Gahh. And where had that first image come from?

I banged my head against a locker in frustration. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder, so I turned around. It was the boy in black. "Um, you're standing in front of my locker," he spoke quietly.

I gave no sign of understanding and silently moved away. As I was about to leave and find another unoccupied locker, the boy in black blurted," Do you know who I am?"

I frowned. "Um, no. Was I supposed to?"

His face fell slightly, but he kept his cool. "Are you serious? You don't remember me at all? I know you, Max, and you could never forget me!"

He knows me? Creeper. I backed away slightly, and said carefully, "I'm really sorry, but I think you mistook me for someone else. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to class." I turned around and tried to go, but he grabbed my wrist.

"Please, Max, if you'd just let me explain-" he tried to say, but he never got the chance. I wrenched my wrist from his grip and ran, leaving a somber looking teenager back in the hallway.

* * *

><p>Fourth period P.E. was probably my favorite class at school. The running, jumping, pushing people down, it just felt like I was really used to this for some reason. But even as I was walking out of the gym I couldn't stop thinking about <em>him.<em>

The boy in black.

Literally ever since I can remember, I kept asking new questions everyday. Like now, for example. Who was he? Why did he say he knows my identity? Demands like this filled my head as I sat down with an apple. Besides, if I barely knew who I was myself, then how could he? Was he from my old life or something?

Oh, who am I kidding? He was probably just some other creepy guy from the sewing "club" that wanted me to "knit one, pearl two" and make a sweater. Yeah, that's it. Nothing extraordinary.

"Max." Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear.

I whipped my head around and said, "Listen, dude. As much as I would absolutely _love_to join your sewing cul-club, I usually have a lot of chores, and waking up before dusk just really isn't my thing."

He rolled his eyes. "Do you seriously think I'm from that cult? Fuck, Max, can't you remember me?"

I tried to run away again, but he grabbed my arms. "Max, look at me," the boy commanded. For the first time, I actually looked into his onyx black eyes. Those eyes, I've actually seen them before. Memories began to rush in my head.

Him and I sitting in dog cages inside a laboratory.

Him and I laughing with a middle-aged man.

Him and I sparring in a green field.

Him and I kissing in a cave.

Him and I holding hands as we flew in the open sky.

"F-Fang?"

**A/N- Well? What do you think? Reviews, please! Argh, I'm a bit of a review whore, and I'm kinda depressed right now, so they'll definitely make me feel better. One last thing: I'm writing a Hunger Games fic. It's a Finnick/Annie Romance/Angst oneshot. It's close to being halfway done, so expect it soon! REVIEW!**

** *Punctuation can save lives:**

** "Let's eat Grandma!" vs. "Let's eat, Grandma!"**


End file.
